


Professor Black

by FaithlessBex



Series: Professor Black [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Gen, Harry's POV, More characters as they appear, No Divination bc fight me, POV Third Person, Professor Regulus Black, Regulus Black Lives, Regulus isn't actually coping well, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, but still pretty darn canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9657848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaithlessBex/pseuds/FaithlessBex
Summary: Harry Potter's second year at Hogwarts had two new teachers - Gilderoy Lockhart for Defense Against the Dark Arts and Regulus Arcturus Black for History of Magic, taking over years 1-5 from Professor Binns. It turns out, that change starts a ripple of events that may change the fates of some people forever. Or not.





	1. The New Professor

Harry trudged his way to History of Magic along with Ron and Hermione, already not looking forward to another boring lesson of names and dates that he would never remember. He was taken by surprise, however, when instead of being greeted by Professor Binns – the ghost that had taught them in their first year – there was a different man there waiting for the class. His robes were clearly well made, black with silver trim around the collar.

“Professor Black was introduced at the Welcome Feast. He’s taken over History of Magic for first through fifth years so Professor Binns can work more closely with the NEWT level students.” Hermione supplied, seeing Harry and Ron’s confused expressions as they settled. “I’m quite excited – he must have a very different perspective than Professor Binns did.”

Professor Black smirked slightly right as she said that, suddenly and unpleasantly reminding Harry of an odd combination of his two least favorite people, Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy.

As soon as the last students were settled, the new professor tapped his wand on the blackboard.

 _Regulus Arcturus Black_ appeared in neat writing followed by a list of course expectations. Grey eyes scanned coolly over the second years briefly before he began speaking. “As a former student of Professor Binns myself, I understand the general impression you would have been given about this subject last year. I understand that many of you don’t care about the actions of wizards and witches from a thousand years ago. However, as we will have to suffer through the next four years together, I’ve only three rules for you. Come to class prepared with any questions you have. Do not talk while I am speaking, that’s what raising your hand is for. If you mention Gilderoy Lockhart, I will automatically deduct five points from your house. Follow those rules and we’ll have no quarrels with each other. Understood?”

Any misgivings Harry had about Professor Black disappeared with the third rule, though he saw Hermione and many of the girls frown at it. No questions were asked and the professor nodded, clearing the board to replace it with the day’s topic.

“Let’s begin, then.”

 

* * *

 

Things were surprisingly normal from then on, with the exception of History of Magic being more interesting than it had been the year before. Harry found himself looking forward to the class – especially on days where he had Defense Against the Dark Arts as well. He’d noticed that Professor Black rarely came down to the Great Hall for meals though no one found that particularly strange.

Even the voice he had heard while serving detention with Lockhart while off-putting, had not really ruined Harry’s year too much.

 And then Halloween had come and the voice returned in the middle of Nearly Headless Nick’s death day party, sending Harry running after it and Ron and Hermione subsequently after him.

 “’Enemies of the Heir beware?’ You’ll be next, mudblood.”

 “That’s enough, Mr. Malfoy.” Professor Black’s voice came from the throng of students. “Twenty points from Slytherin. Now, all of you, back to your dormitories.”

 The students dispersed at the order, though the trio was stopped by Professor McGonagall. “Thank you, Professor Black, for your defense of my student even against your former house.”

 Professor Black nodded, looking over to Professor Snape with an odd expression on his face. “If we do not make it clear that certain behaviors are not acceptable, we are destined to make the same mistakes over and over again. Now, unless the Headmaster deems my presence necessary, I beg my leave. I have papers to grade and the Weasley twins’ require diagnostic spells before I dare touch them.” The last part was directed to the newly arrived Dumbledore – whose eye twinkle seemed to briefly reappear at the implication of booby trapped homework.

 “I believe the rest of the staff shall be sufficient, Regulus. Good luck with your grading.”

 He inclined his head slightly at the Trio, taking a moment to stare again at the words on the wall, brow furrowed, before he departed.  Harry noticed Snape watch the other Professor walk away,  something akin to his normal sneer on his face before all attention was back on the task at hand.

 

* * *

 

 

When Hermione’s hand shot up at the beginning of History of Magic, Professor Black regarded her for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. “I’ve an idea what you’re going to ask about, Ms. Granger, but go ahead.”

“I was wondering, I think we were all wondering, about the Chamber of Secrets.”

The class nodded and Professor Black sighed again, louder and more dramatically in the way Harry had learned he did when he didn’t actually mind going off on a new topic, but wasn’t willing to say so.

“Very well then. I expect all of you to take notes on this and be prepared for it to be on an exam in the future. The legend of the Chamber of Secrets is one aptly shrouded in mystery as any story reaching back to the time of the Founders of Hogwarts is. There is little hard evidence regarding the stories of that time. Now, who here remembers the names of the four founders?” Hermione’s hand shot up as well as a few other students, albeit at a slower pace. “Mr. Thomas.”

Dean answered, “Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin.”

“Well done. Yes, that is in fact our alliterative list of Founders. They were among the brightest of their age and actually were willing to put that talent to use instead of locking themselves away to hoard their knowledge as so many lesser scholars would. They came together despite inherent ideological differences to build this school and teach the next generations of their kind. However, it was not a safe time to be of magical descent and the laws we have today did not exist then. Muggles distrusted magic and were willing to persecute wizard kind for it. The Fat Friar is among those that could attest to that sort of thing.”

Seamus’s hand rose and the lecture paused. “No offense, Professor, but what’s this got to do with the Chamber of Secrets?”

The professor let out a soft huff of laughter. “Context, Mr. Finnegan, context. If I only gave you the legend without giving you context as well, it would paint certain parties in a worse light than they should be. For instance, because of the rampant persecution of magical people by muggles, secrecy became paramount. Salazar Slytherin was wary to allow muggle born students not because he saw them as lesser but because he did not trust for word to get out, exposing the vulnerable students as well as the wizarding world as a whole. Needless to say, this fear reportedly lead to a quarrel between Slytherin and Gryffindor which is thought to be the beginning of the feud between the Houses that exists even today.”

He paused, lips quirking into a smile as if remembering something.

“But I’ll get to the point you all are so eager for. Before leaving the school, people believe that Slytherin made a chamber that no other founder knew about, one that could be opened only by him or an heir of his. Professor Binns thinks it’s a load of centaur dung but I respectfully disagree with him. No one has learned all the secrets of this school and I doubt anyone ever will. There is always a chance that the attack on Mrs. Norris was simply a prank and someone with knowledge of the legend but it makes for a good lesson either way. The most compelling part of the legend is the implication of some sort of beast hidden within the chamber, waiting for its master to command it to serve his or her interests.”

Another hand rose, Professor Black calling on Neville. “What- what sort of beast?”

“The legends are unspecific. However, Mr. Longbottom, what creature comes to mind when you think ‘Slytherin’?”

“A… snake, sir.”

“Quite. That would be my personal theory, a snake or something similar to one. However, he was a shrewd and intelligent man. It is equally as likely he would go with a different defense knowing people would associate him and snakes. Now. Any other questions?”


	2. The Diary of Tom Riddle

Outside of classes, Professor Black remained just as elusive as he had all term. Thus, when Harry, Ron and Hermione began their trek back up to the castle from the disaster that was the Quidditch match against Slytherin, Harry was surprised when the professor caught up with them.

“Mr. Potter, excellent flying today. I was rooting for Slytherin, of course, house loyalty is hard to shake. However, considering Mr. Malfoy’s performance today, I’m rather disappointed.” He looked down at Harry, frowning suddenly as he looked at the flopping arm. “I do not pity the experience you will have tonight, Mr. Potter. I’ve heard Skele-gro is the worst of all medical potions.”

Harry stopped, causing the others to pause with him. “No offense, Professor, but… Why do you care?”

“Harry!”

“I was a Seeker myself when I was in school.” Harry was certain his surprise showed on his face because Professor Black gave that half smirk he always did when someone asked something expected. “Yes, I was a student once. Much more recently than you’d think, even. Of course, things were a tad more peaceful back then, but I digress. I’ll take my leave, now. Get to the hospital wing. The sooner your arm is healed, the happier you shall be.”

Ron waited until the professor was gone before shaking his head. “Anyone else find that really weird?”

“How do you mean?” Hermione asked, frowning at him as they began walking again.

“The bloke never shows up for anything outside of his own classes and then he pops up at a Quidditch match that Harry gets attacked at? If this Malfoy thing doesn’t work out, it might be-”

“We can’t just accuse a teacher!” Her voice went shrill, though Harry could see the doubt in her eyes. “Just because he’s new and a bit odd doesn’t mean he’s attacking muggleborns.” Ron looked as though he was about to speak again when they reached the Hospital Wing. “Fine. We’ll talk about it later, if Malfoy ends up not being involved.”

Things seemed to be a flurry from then on – Madame Pomphrey’s fretting and the rest of the Gryffindor team coming in to bring him up to date on everything and then waking to Dobby and Colin being petrified. Ron’s words from earlier had stuck in his head – he couldn’t see Professor Black hurting people, not with how he’d gotten after Malfoy, but they hadn’t suspected Quirrell the year before either. Actually, he didn’t even know if the history professor was even from a Pureblood family.

That question was answered, surprisingly enough, by Draco Malfoy. As he and Ron – in the guise of Crabbe and Goyle – sat in the Slytherin Common Room. “Surely you must know who the Heir is.” Harry said, looking at Malfoy.

“I’ve told you before, I don’t. I thought it was Professor Black. His family’s old and pure enough for it and there were Blacks at Hogwarts fifty years ago when a mudblood was killed. They said they caught the culprit but Father won’t tell me more, thinks I should stay out of it.”

The knowledge seemed to trouble Ron after they’d seen Hermione off to the hospital wing. “If it’s not Malfoy then it’s got to be Professor Black. Slytherin’s full of a bunch of shady people but most of them aren’t from an old enough bloodline or are too stupid to be able to get away with it. No one’d guess it was a professor, even after last year. You heard him talk in class about the Chamber. Knows a lot, don’t you think?”

“You knew that he was from an old Pureblood family?” Harry asked, interested.

“They’re one of the really old families, dark magic types like the Malfoys according to dad. When he heard that one of them was teaching he said to watch out. Apparently they were just as big supporters of You-Know-Who as Mr. Malfoy was.”

“He doesn’t seem like he would be.” Harry said, playing the voice of reason. “You remember how he stood up for Hermione when Malfoy called her… And he hasn’t treated anyone like Snape does. Maybe he’s different from his family.”

Ron shrugged. “He was a Slytherin.” He said as though that one fact decided it.

“Maybe there are some that aren’t that bad.” Harry suggested without real conviction

Ron still seemed doubtful so Harry let the matter rest, continuing up to Gryffindor Tower. No real decisions could be made without Hermione anyway.

 

….

 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione kept an eye on the professor as classes resumed. As it was, nothing really happened attack wise. Hermione made her displeasure known in the common room towards the end of January. “There’ve been no attacks. Professor Black hasn’t changed how he’s acted at all, I think you two just can’t help suspecting him.”

“He’s from an old Slytherin family, Hermione!” Ron hissed back, looking around warily for Percy. “One that was big on blood purity. We need to be suspicious of him. Maybe he’s stopped attacking people to throw us off his trail.”

“Then why not open the chamber when he was a student? The last time it was opened was fifty years ago, but he was at Hogwarts maybe twenty years ago. He couldn’t have known he’d get a job here, could he?”

Ron was quiet for a moment. “Maybe he didn’t know how to open it or where it was before now.”

Hermione was unimpressed, closing her book with a final snap. “I’ll believe it when you have a real argument, Ron. He’s shown no signs of caring about blood status towards any muggle born here. He’s nicer than Professor Snape. Just because someone was a pureblood Slytherin doesn’t mean we can automatically suspect them.” And then she was gone up to the girl’s dormitories, leaving Ron grumbling and Harry pondering her words.

 

…

 

Professor Black wasn’t cleared of their suspicion until February when Tom Riddle showed Harry the memory of Hagrid and the monster. As little evidence as Ron’s theory had, it made even less sense that Hagrid would be intentionally hurting people. However, Harry had seen it himself, though he could see how the gamekeeper would think that a dangerous creature would be harmless. Weren’t Norbert and Fluffy proof of that?

Now that he was cleared of guilt in Harry’s mind, he found himself standing outside the History professor’s office, trying to decide whether or not he should knock on it. Before he could, however, the door opened. It was the first time Harry had seen the man genuinely surprised. Professor Black recovered quickly, cool smirk back in place as he looked him over. “Something the matter, Mr. Potter?”

“I had a question about Salazar Slytherin.” Harry said, almost surprised when Black moved to the side to let him in. “I know when we talked about him in class, you mentioned his thing with snakes.” The professor let out a soft bark of laughter at the phrase. “But did he… have anything to do with spiders? Or anything _like_ spiders?”

Professor Black was quiet for a moment as if processing the question before answering. “Nothing I recall from the legends, no. And I don’t know of any spider-like creatures that can petrify either, but that’s a question for a competent Defense professor.” Harry was certain it was impossible to miss the distaste in his voice. “Normally I’d suggest going to Professor Snape for more information but I’ve gathered that he’s not overly fond of you.”

Harry hesitated for a moment before replying. “Professor Dumbledore said it’s because my dad saved his life.”

“Did he now? That’s one part of the story, I suppose.”

Harry sat up straight, suddenly aware of what Professor Black was saying. “You were at school with my dad and Snape?”

“That’s unimportant, Mr. Potter. Now, I’d suggest you go find Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger and stop playing detective. This isn’t a game, people’s lives may actually be at stake. Have a good day.”

Sensing he’d get nothing more from the conversation Harry left, hurrying off to find his friends.

 

…

 

As time continued to pass and no one new was attacked, Harry let himself not think about Hagrid’s involvement with the monster. A good thing too as Easter holidays came around and course decisions needed to be made.

Professor Black – with the long suffering sigh he seemed to reserve for things that had to do with anything other than wizarding history – decided to set aside an entire lesson dedicated to helping them with their decisions.

“I’m only doing this because I’m certain many of you in this room are planning on picking whatever sounds least difficult and I’m not willing to put up with you lot next term if you’re unhappy with your new classes. Lesson one – don’t pick a class just because you’ve got a friend taking it. Your year is rather small as is, you might as well meet people you don’t know well.”

“Second. Play to your strengths and interests. If you’re good with numbers and maths, try Arithmancy. If languages and curse breaking is something you find compelling, Ancient Runes. Divination isn’t horrible if you’re already interested in Astronomy and Astrology or you think you have some level of the Sight. Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies are self-explanatory.”

The lesson seemed to have calmed Neville down some and Harry looked at the courses with a renewed vigor. He and Ron agreed to take Care of Magical Creatures together but where Ron stuck with Divination, Harry signed up for Arithmancy, thinking back to his time in Muggle school. He hadn’t been bad at maths and likely would have been better had he not had the Dursley’s keeping him too busy to really do his course work well.

Unfortunately, the peace didn’t last. In what felt like a rush, Hermione and the Ravenclaw prefect were petrified spurring Harry and Ron into action. In one long night, both Hagrid and Dumbledore were gone. Then, as soon as they were able to follow Hagrid’s clue and return with a new lead, things only got worse.

“A student has been taken to the Chamber.” McGonagall said, sounding distressed and tired through the wardrobe door.

“Who?” That was Professor Black, sounding for once at a loss and as far from composed as Harry had ever heard.

“Ginny Weasley.”

The quiet in the room was shattered by Lockhart entering and Harry was vindictively pleased to hear the other teachers ganging up on him. Professor Black had stayed quiet through the whole thing other than his one question. As Lockhart started to falter under the scrutiny, he heard a loud bang and an angry grunt followed by Snape’s voice. “He’s not worth it, Regulus.”

“Maybe not, but it would have felt good.”

Harry mirrored the sentiment.

 

…

 

Hours later, standing in McGonagall’s office with Tom Riddle’s diary, Harry watched as Professor Black grew pale, staring at the book as if it were poisonous. Not that he could blame him – it did have the memory of Lord Voldemort’s younger self trapped in it before Harry had stabbed it. Dumbledore seemed to notice the young professor’s distress soon after, looking over to McGonagall. “Minerva, if you could escort Regulus to the Hospital Wing. It appears he may need a calming draught.”

The mention of his name seemed to snap the Professor out of his state. “I need no such thing. I’ll take my leave, Professor.” He strode out, just a bit too quickly to be as fine as he claimed to be.

Harry didn’t see him again until the next History of Magic class though he appeared fully recovered from whatever had startled him. In fact, he seemed rather pleased. He wondered briefly if it had anything to do with the rumors of an argument between the professor and Lucius Malfoy. He’d have given half his vault to see _that_ , he thought.

“Well. It seems like we’ve all survived this year with most of our sanity intact. Next term you’ll all be busier than ever, what with your new classes. Still, that’s no excuse for slacking off. I expect your summer homework the first day of class and without any stains or tears. If you learn anything interesting over the holidays regarding wizarding history, I’m willing to accept brief summaries for extra points.” Professor Black let his serious expression drop for a moment, looking over the second years. “Have an excellent summer, I release you early. Enjoy the day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through many many revisions, mostly because at first it was too passive and then I realized I didn't want Harry picking classes just because Ron was going to be in them so I had to rework things. I'm happy with how it turned out, though.
> 
> Regarding Regulus's backstory: I'm considering writing a sister story when this is finished from Regulus's perspective. As it is, Harry will likely learn more starting with his fourth year as he'll have someone to talk to about Sirius that isn't Ron and Hermione. He won't find out he was a Death Eater until Fifth Year.


	3. Blacks and Boggarts

“Who’s that next to Professor Black?” Harry asked Ron as he settled in at the Feast – having gotten the (reluctant) okay from Madame Pomfrey following the dementor attack on the train. Indeed, on either side of the History Professor were two new faces: on his right and next to Snape was an older, scarred man and on his left, next to Lupin, was a woman who looked like she was only a few years out of Hogwarts.

“Aurors.” Ron swallowed his mouthful of food. “Turns out Professor Black is Sirius Black’s brother. Dementors aren’t allowed on the grounds so the Ministry brought ‘em in to make sure he wasn’t helping him or something. Dad said something like that might happen.”

Harry stared at Ron for a moment before looking up at the professor. He seemed tired. Though, Harry supposed, he’d have been tired too if his brother was an escaped convict like Sirius Black. “Will they be in our lessons?” Ron shrugged, going back to his food.

The question was answered only a few days later in History of Magic, Professor Black sitting at his desk – a change from his normal classroom demeanor already. The woman from the feast – or so Harry assumed, her hair had gone from being a respectable blonde to bright pink – was also present, sat in a chair in the corner. Black stood once the last students filed in and sat, observing them all with his cool grey eyes. “Welcome back. I’m certain you all remember my rules from last term? They remain the same with one exception. As Gilderoy Lockhart is no longer a daily annoyance in my life, rule three is henceforth ‘there will be no questions about, nor discussion of, Sirius Black’.”

His mouth set in a scowl as if the mere mention of his brother put a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe it did.

“You were all briefly introduced to Aurors Tonks and Moody at the Welcome Feast. Auror Tonks will be a guest in this classroom until the heightened security is no longer necessary. As it is, she will not be a disturbance or distraction to your studies and is being held to my three rules as well. Auror Tonks, anything you wish to say?”

She stood, a smile spreading easily across her face. Harry couldn’t imagine two more different people having to spend time together unless Tonks had been forced into a room with Snape. Actually, he’d pay to see something like that.

“Wotcher, Third Years. If you see anything suspicious, just let me know and Auror Moody and I will look into it. We’re here for your protection. I think that’s about it for me, go on Professor. Teach.”

There was a slight teasing edge to her voice that Harry caught. Rolling his eyes, the professor went straight into their lesson.

 

…

 

He appeared again during their first Defense lesson with Lupin, speaking with Snape in the staff room. However, as Snape left, he stayed to observe, though Harry heard a snort at Lupin’s response to Snape’s snide remarks about Hermione and Neville.

“You’ll be staying, Regulus?”

“It’s bound to be far more interesting than grading. Please, go on.”

Professor Lupin jumped into the lesson, telling them about the boggart in the wardrobe. He was explaining things and then asked a question. Unsurprisingly, Hermione answered but at the next one, Harry himself was called on. Unsure, he still took a crack at answering, even with Hermione all but bouncing next to him. “There’s so many of us, it’ll get confused. Right?”

“Well done Harry. I once saw a boggart try to decide whether to become a headless corpse or a flesh eating slug. It got so confused it turned itself into half a slug, not very frightening. What will really finish the boggart is laughter so you’ll want to turn it into something you find funny. The charm is Riddikulus.”

The class repeated him before Lupin called Neville forward, asking him what he feared most. Finally Neville was able to say “Professor Snape.” Another laugh escaped the History Professor as Lupin pressed on what Neville’s grandmother wore. It was obvious he understood where Lupin was going with it.

Eventually, after having the entire class consider their own fears and how to make them humorous, they were all shooed to the back of the room to allow Neville his turn uninhibited. When the spell had been cast on Boggart-Snape, Harry couldn’t stop the raucous laugh that escaped him. It was likely one of the greatest things he had seen in his 13 years. Professor Black had a hand up to his mouth as if trying to hide his own reaction.

From there, Lupin called student one by one, Ron’s spiders going legless and coming to a halt at Harry’s feet. He readied his wand as it changed shape, growing into a figure in billowing robes, the temperature seeming to drop with every passing moment.

And then Harry’s vision was blocked by pristine black robes, the temperature returning to normal even as Professor Black’s voice rang out “Riddikulus.” He looked around the Professor just in time to see the pale, humanoid creature that the boggart had turned into start tap dancing. Lupin called Neville back out, the boggart regaining its Snape form just in time to be donned once more in his grandmother’s clothes.

The boggart vanished as the class erupted back into laughter.  Harry couldn’t help but look for Professor Black as Professor Lupin ended the class, finding the man in a corner looking eerily pale. “Harry.” Lupin’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Time for you to head off.” He followed Harry’s line of sight, a soft frown playing on the man’s worn features. “He’ll be alright. Go on.”

Thusly chastised, Harry left to find Hermione and Ron waiting for him.

“I never thought I’d see Professor Black so shook up.” Ron was saying. “Whatever that thing was, it must have really had him spooked.

“I suppose.” Hermione agreed somewhat sullenly. “Still, I’d have liked a chance to have gone up against it.”

“What, so we could see you being told you got more than three questions wrong on an exam?” Ron shot back, not unkindly but Harry could see Hermione’s face growing red in frustration. Instead of risking getting involved, he pushed past them and chose to let them sort it out themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somewhat shorter chapter and a bit later than i'd hoped, but you all deserved some continuation. tonks and moody getting brought in early, though harry and co won't interact with either of them all that much. book3 will probably have two more parts. thank you for your patience, kudos, and reviews!


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Professor Lupin have a conversation, the Fat Lady is attacked, and things are overheard in the pub.

Defense Against the Dark Arts quickly became Harry’s favorite subject – a passing comment of Professor Black’s from the year before suddenly resonating with him. This must have been the difference a competent teacher made to a class, much like Professor Black himself had done for History of Magic. It was all fascinating, every creature that Professor Lupin had brought in and taught them about was more interesting than the last. The excitement around the castle grew as the weeks passed, October’s Hogsmeade visit making every Third Year vibrate with excitement. 

All except Harry, who didn’t have his form signed, of course. McGonagall was true to herself as ever and had been unwilling to sign his form meaning he had Halloween to himself. Not exactly what he’d planned. He wandered the castle aimlessly when Lupin called to him, curious as to his solitary walk.

The grindylow in his office was just as interesting as any of the other creatures they’d studied so far. “I’ve only got teabags, but mostly, much like yourself it seems, I’m not interested in seeing things anytime I have a craving for tea.”

Harry gave Lupin a confused frown and the professor’s eyes twinkled. “I’m sorry?”

“Elementary Divination. I’m sure your friends have told you they start out reading the future in their tea leaves?” In fact, Ron _had_ said something of the like, though it made little sense to Harry how soggy lumps of stuff could tell anything about the future. Lupin let out a loud laugh when he said as much. “Yes, I never found the subject all that compelling. I’ve heard that you’re taking Arithmancy, though. That was definitely something I enjoyed at your age.”

It was easy, talking about things with Professor Lupin, he was startled to realize. The older man was open in a way he hadn’t experienced, not even in the few less formal interactions he’d had with Professor Black. But, then again, the two professors seemed to come from completely different worlds.

“I’ve got a question, if you don’t mind me asking, Professor.” Harry said after a brief moment of watching the Grindylow swim in the tank. “At our first lesson, with the Boggart, Professor Black stepped in front of me when it had started to take form. Do you know why?”

“Ah. I was wondering if you’d ask about that.” Lupin mused. “I cannot tell you his exact reasoning, but I like to think I know well enough to make a guess. He likely feared that it would take the form of Lord Voldemort, as I did. To be honest, Harry, if he hadn’t, I likely would have.” He held up a hand to stop Harry’s protest. “Not because we think you cannot handle yourself, but because the sudden appearance of Voldemort in such a delicate time is… less than ideal.”

And that made sense. Better, it filled a chunk in Harry’s confidence he hadn’t been aware was missing. The realization hit, suddenly, that Lupin used Voldemort’s name. His respect for the professor skyrocketed. “I didn’t think of Voldemort.” He admitted. “I thought of dementors.”

“That’s very wise, Harry. It implies that your worst fear is fear itself. Very mature.”

As he went to ask Lupin about how to properly deal with dementors, the door opened – admitting Snape of all people. In the professor’s hand was a horrendous looking, smoking potion.  Harry listened as the professors spoke, a small seed of worry growing in his gut even as Snape left and Lupin took the plunge to drink from the goblet (despite Harry’s warning of Snape’s ambitions).

That night Sirius Black attacked the Fat Lady.

 

…

 

All the students were gathered together into the Great Hall that night, Professor Dumbledore moving the tables and summoning sleeping bags for them all. “The professors and I will be sweeping the school. Professor Black will be in charge of you all with the assistance of the Head Boy and Girl as well as the prefects.”

A funny expression crossed Regulus’s face and for a moment, Harry was certain he was going to protest. But then a resigned sigh left him and he nodded. “Very well, Headmaster. Happy hunting.” There was something world weary to the professor’s voice, as he turned to give instructions to the ever-eager Percy Weasley and the Head Girl.

The hours went by slowly but Harry – Ron and Hermione as well – didn’t sleep. They were in good company, if the soft whispers and occasional scoldings around them were anything to go by. It was nearly two in the morning when he heard Professor Black speak. “Get some rest, Weasley. You’ll be no good to anyone if you’re falling over yourself later. I can manage a few hours by myself.” There was no protest so Harry had to assume that Percy hadn’t argued, likely tired from taking charge of such a difficult situation.

An hour later, Dumbledore returned. Harry pretended to sleep as footsteps drew nearer. “Well? Did you find him?” It was Black, his voice sharp; _angry_ , he realized.

“No. How are things here, Regulus?”

“As you’d expect. None of the students seem particularly scarred, so there’s that at least. Most of them only just fell asleep despite lights out hours ago.”

Dumbledore chuckled softly. “I’m not surprised. Best to let them sleep, then. Tomorrow they’ll go back to their dormitories and the Gryffindor Common Room will have a new guardian. I’m afraid the Fat Lady is severely disturbed. She wouldn’t let him in without the password and he lost his temper.”

“Yes, that sounds like him.”

Snape joined them then, adding more information to the conversation. Black had escaped. And then the conversation became somewhat strange, like a particularly difficult arithmancy question where he didn’t have all the information needed to solve the equations.

“It is unlikely that he’d be able to get into the castle without assistance, Headmaster. I’ve expressed my concerns about-”

“Yes, Severus, because that makes so much sense. If you’re going to accuse anyone, best to suspect me, don’t you think? Considering my family and the fact that Sirius is, in fact, my brother.” Harry suspected – eyes still closed – that Snape had been about to respond when Professor Black continued. “Besides, this isn’t the place, no matter how you feel. There are ears everywhere.”

Harry waited until the Professors had left before letting out a breath, meeting Ron and Hermione’s eyes.

 

…

 

Somehow, things still managed to get back to some semblance of normal – with the exceptions of Madame Hooch supervising Gryffindor’s practices and, the day before the first Quidditch match, Snape’s horrendous teaching of their Defense Against the Dark Arts class due to Professor Lupin being ill. In hindsight, Harry wished that had been the worst part of his week. Instead, the match had been invaded by dementors, Harry had lost his broom, and Gryffindor lost its first match since Harry had joined the team.

Professor Black had become somehow more withdrawn, not appearing at meals after the attack on the Fat Lady. There were bags under his eyes when they did see him, though apparent lack of sleep had little effect on his ability to teach. Not that Harry could truly judge anyone on an inability to sleep – not with his own dreams haunted by his mother’s voice following the disastrous Quidditch match.

Just as tired seeming as the History professor was Lupin who, somehow, still managed to be cheerful, cancelling the homework that Snape had set them to. Harry left the lesson, somewhat lighter knowing Lupin was willing to teach him to fight them.

Winter holidays were around the corner and, with it, another Hogsmeade visit that Harry wouldn’t be able to go on. Or, at least, that was what he had thought before he received his Christmas gift from the Weasley twins. After dissuading most of Hermione’s worries, they settled to enjoy their day in the village, heading for a drink at the Three Broomsticks.

Harry was shoved under their table as a group of professors and the _Minister of Magic_ came into the pub. Nothing could have prepared him for the conversation he was about to overhear.

“I still have trouble believing it. Sirius Black was the last I’d have thought would go to the dark side.” Rosmerta said.

Fudge replied grimly. “You don’t even know the worst, Madame. It was never made widely known.”

“There’s _worse_?”

It was McGonagall that added next. “You remember when he was in school, Rosmerta. Do you remember his best friend?”

“Naturally. You never saw them without each other. Always made me laugh, their double act. Sirius Black and James Potter.”

Harry’s tankard fell at Rosmerta’s words even as McGonagall agreed, not missing a single beat. “Ringleaders of their little gang. Inseparable. I don’t think we’ve had such a pair of troublemakers.”

Hagrid, Flitwick, and Fudge all added their own comments, the Minister revealing to Harry, unknowingly, that the very man trying to kill him had been his father’s best man. That Sirius Black was the reason his parents were dead – he’d betrayed Harry’s parents to Voldemort despite years of friendship.

The conversation died as the door opened again, two pairs of shoes approaching the table the professors, minister, and Rosmerta were at. “I’d say I hope we’re not interrupting, but seeing how the conversation died when Dora and I came in, I expect you’re discussing Sirius.” It was Professor Black, though he wasn’t certain who ‘Dora’ was supposed to be.

“Regulus.” The feminine growl answered his question – Auror Tonks. He hadn’t realized they were close enough to be on first name basis.

“There’s no need to shy away from the subject on my account, I haven’t spoken to him since he left Hogwarts. We didn’t exactly get on.”

It took a few moments after they sat, but the conversation started again. “Black betrayed the Potters.”

“Yes. We believe that he was tired of playing both sides and had the bad luck to openly show his true colors the same moment that his master was defeated.”

“I met him, after.” Hagrid added after a moment. “At their house. I didn’t know he had been their secret keeper, I thought he was just there to check on them. White and shaken, he was. I comforted him! I thought he was upset about Lily and James! And then- then he asked me to give Harry over to him because he’s Harry’s godfather but I said no. Had to take him to his aunt and uncle. Gave in, in the end. Lent me his motorbike because he said he didn’t need it anymore.”

A soft noise from Professor Black was all there was after the story. Harry didn’t think it could get any worse but Fudge continued the tale. “If only we had found him first. Instead it was Peter Pettigrew.”

“Pettigrew?” The history professor asked. It was obvious that he hadn’t heard this part of the tale before, at least not with detail. “ _Peter Pettigrew_ tried to stand up to Sirius?”

“Yes. I was as surprised as you were, considering how he had been in school. You hadn’t known?”

“I was in America for… a very long time. Didn’t get those sorts of details while studying the 1926 Obscurial attacks.”

But he went quiet even as the others continued the discussion on Pettigrew and Black. It didn’t matter to Harry anymore – all that mattered was the anger Harry could feel growing in him. This man that was trying to kill him was the reason for all of Harry’s misery. His anger kept him warm as he made his way back to the castle, trying to sort through everything he had learned that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't realized how much plot-important stuff is in the center chunk of this book and that's with me completely cutting out all of Harry's Divination because he's not taking it.  
> There's going to be a lot less direct conversation between Harry and Regulus because Regulus isn't dealing with things in a particularly healthy manner, but Harry likes him and is going to notice things about him the same way he notices Remus is looking shabbier and tired.  
> Regulus is actually SPECTACULARLY uninformed about Sirius's circumstances but he DOES believe him guilty. That is important.  
> Also, Tonks probably has a conflict of interest being Regulus's security detail but I'm pretty sure Moody decided Hogwarts was where she was best suited with all this 'Black Family Drama'


	5. Truth and Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of book 3. Some turmoil and the Shrieking Shack and Regulus getting the truth without the reunion. Minor hints of Tonks/Lupin bc I ship it

Harry made his way back to the common room somehow, avoiding the jubilant Fred and George with their dungbombs, instead heading straight up to his dormitory and the photo album Hagrid had gifted him. It was easier to find Black than it might have been without his brother as a teacher – though he came off as taller and happier than the History professor. He couldn’t bear to stare at the photo of the man with his father. Slamming the book shut he tried in vain to sleep until dawn was breaking.

When he finally made his way downstairs, it was to a noticeably worried Ron and Hermione and an otherwise empty common room. His foul mood had faded, however, after their visit to Hagrid – not because of Hagrid himself, but because he felt like his anger over Sirius Black would only get in the way of helping with Buckbeak’s defense.

Christmas morning started with a wakeup call by Ron, Harry getting up before starting on his pile of presents. He had gotten the usual care package from Mrs. Weasley and as he shifted them, his eyes caught a long, thin package.

It was a Firebolt. Unsigned.

They went over a few possibilities of who could have sent him the Firebolt, Harry quickly shooting down both of Ron’s suggestions before Hermione came in, Crookshanks in her arms.

Her expression fell hearing their ignorance of who sent it.

“I don’t think anyone should ride it.”

Ron’s rude comment was cut off by Crookshanks leaping at Ron, making another attempt at Scabbers. Harry’s sneakoscope added to the chaotic noise in the dormitory. He managed to shove it away into his trunk as Hermione left, leaving the two boys and the incredibly sickly looking rat.

With Hermione and Ron cross with each other, the common room was tense. It was almost a relief that they headed for lunch, the table a single round one instead of the House tables. An airy woman came in just as they had started eating, Ron nudging Harry as she began to spiel on about thirteen people and death.

“That’s Professor Trewlaney, she teaches Divination.”

Even as he spoke, the doors opened again, Auror Tonks leading a somewhat annoyed looking Professor Black. Dumbledor gave the pair a smile.

“Ah, this is a magnificent day. Good afternoon, Regulus, Nymphadora.”

The auror’s hair went red. “Could you just call me Tonks, Professor?” She complained and Black’s mood seemed to lighten.

McGonagall looked over to Trewlaney. “There now, there’s fifteen of us. No need to worry about death to the first that rises.”

…

Back in the common room, Harry looked over the Firebolt until Hermione and Professor McGonagall entered. “Miss Granger has told me you’ve received a broomstick. May I?” She took it, examining it. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take this.”

“What? Why?”

“To ensure it hasn’t been cursed. Madame Hooch and Professor Flitwick will want to strip it down.”

“But it’s not cursed!” Harry protested.

“You’ll get it back as soon as we’ve checked it. It will likely only be a few weeks. We cannot risk the fact that it may have been sent by Sirius Black.”

And there the argument ended, McGonagall leaving the common room, Harry’s broomstick in hand. Ron wasted no time turning on Hermione and – though Harry could understand her reasons – Harry didn’t try to stop him. They hadn’t made up before the term started which made Arithmancy more awkward as he sought out a new partner for pair work in the class.

Still, his pending lessons with Professor Lupin kept his spirit’s up. They met in the History of Magic classroom, Professor Black lurking in a dark corner of the room. Lupin smiled thinly to the man. “You know, Regulus, you can leave Harry and me to this.”

“I could but the last time I left my classroom with unattended Gryffindors, I was finding dungbombs for a week. I believe the Weasley twins and Jordan are trying to ‘liven up’ the NEWT level students’ studies.”

Lupin shrugged, a small smile tugging at his face. “Very well.”

The first attempt when horribly, in Harry’s opinion. He ate the chocolate frog Lupin had handed him as he spoke. “It was worse this time. I could hear both of them, her and Voldemort.”

There was a loud thud from Professor Black’s corner followed by low swearing. The Defense professor, somewhat pale, paused for a moment before turning all his attention back to Harry.

…

At the end of the lesson, Harry had found refuge behind a suit of armor, musing over his parents voices when he was interrupted.

“Mr. Potter do you require escort back to your common room?” He nearly choked on his chocolate, staring up at Professor Black. “And that’s not actually a question. Get up and come on.” He did so, not daring ask the man why. “Normally I’d ask how you knew that Sirius and your father were friends as I’m certain no one actually told you that, but after last year I think I’d rather not know. In my opinion, the more you know, the better.”

He sighed and continued. “Sirius is… was, I suppose, fiercely loyal to those he cared about. I never saw him care for anyone with the same intensity as for your father. He was Sirius’s brother more than I ever was. However, Sirius had never been without his faults. He was always impulsive, mercurial, and vicious, especially toward his enemies. And he was brilliant. If you go after him, Potter, you will die. Remember to use your brain and steer clear of him. You’re not immortal.”

They came to a stop in front of Sir Cadogan’s portrait. “But that’s all I will say on it. Have a good night, Potter.”

He didn’t come to any more of Harry’s Patronus lessons.

…

Professor Black’s words came back to Harry suddenly as he stood in the Shrieking Shack, Snape out cold. “Before I let you do this – if I believe you then what reason would Pettigrew have to betray my parents? If all four of you were as close as you say, why would he get them killed?”

“Because Peter was a coward. Because Lord Voldemort offered him power.” Black snarled.

Lupin gave the man a look before adding in. “Following that logic, Harry, what reason would Sirius have to betray James and Lily?”

“His family.” Ron’s voice was colored in pain, still clutching the pocket containing Scabbers. And odd look passed over Black’s face, half amused. “My dad told me last year to watch out for Professor Black. Said the Black family was on the same level as the Malfoys. All Pureblood superiority.”

“True enough.” It was the sanest Black had sounded the entire time. “Wait. ‘Professor Black’?”

“Regulus. He’s alive and teaching History of Magic.”

It was as if years of age faded from the convict’s face at that revelation before it shifted into a scowl. “As wonderful as my brother’s continued existence is, we’ve got more important things at hand. Can we do this now? I’ve already waited twelve years.”

Scabbers was, reluctantly, handed over, and soon replaced by a grubby looking man, still somehow resembling the rat he had been only moments ago. Peter Pettigrew immediately burst into protests, each excuse for his exile more flimsy than the next. Harry found himself grow disgusted but he still couldn’t allow his father’s closest friends to commit murder, not even when he had thought himself prepared to murder Black – Sirius – himself.

“If we take him to the castle, we can clear your name. Pettigrew can go to Azkaban like he deserves.”

He could tell that Lupin and Sirius were reluctant to agree. “But if you transform, we kill you, Peter. That alright, Harry?”

“Yeah.”

Everything went downhill from there.

The elation at the idea that he might have been able to leave the Dursley’s was quashed as the moon revealed the true nature of Professor Lupin’s illness. It was full. In the confusion, Pettigrew managed to get one of the discarded wands, transforming and running off. As he and Hermione went to move Ron and Snape to the castle, there was a doglike yelp.

It was Sirius.

They took off at a run, finding a now human Sirius and an entire flood of Dementors. Even with his new happy memories, the idea of freedom from the Dursleys wasn’t enough to fight off that many of the creatures. The last thing he saw before everything when dark was a silver creature bounding towards them, banishing the dementors and returning to its caster. The someone was familiar, but his mind and strength gave up on him.

…

The knowledge that Sirius and Buckbeak were free – on the run, perhaps, but alive – buoyed Harry’s spirits through the next day. He wasn’t entirely certain he understood how his and Hermione’s Time Travel had worked, but the results were what mattered.

Pettigrew had escaped, though, and Professor Lupin had already chosen to resign, despite Harry’s protests. Lupin smiled thinly, looking over the Marauders Map. Something seemed to occur to him all of a sudden. “Considering what you and I know, Harry, I believe there is someone who still needs to be told the truth about Sirius.”

Harry frowned. “Dumbledore said that no one would believe our story.”

“No one in Magical Law Enforcement, perhaps. But there’s someone here in Hogwarts who will welcome the news that his brother wasn’t a follower of Voldemort.” Lupin muttered a quick “Mischief Managed” before handing the parchment to Harry and striding out of the room towards Professor Black’s office. He gave a quick knock before ushering Harry into the room.

Professor Black gave them a bemused and somewhat wary look before addressing the now brunette Auror Tonks. Harry made a mental note to ask how she kept changing her appearance later. “Tell Andy to send me an owl, Dora. I’d like to see about officially reinstate her inheritance.”

“Will do, cousin. Wotcher Harry, Remus.” She gave them a bright smile before heading to the exit. Lupin gave her a smile, one brighter than Harry remembered seeing in the entire year. It didn’t seem to have escaped the other Professor’s attention. “ _Lupin_.” The tone was warning, his eyes narrowed.

Lupin shook his head. “That’s not why we came, Regulus. We need to talk about Sirius.”

Black sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I know my brother escaped, Lupin. The minister and Moody were already here to question me. I had no hand in it.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Lupin agreed. “I thought you should know that he was innocent. Framed. Peter Pettigrew was the culprit, they changed secret keepers without telling anyone. Peter faked his death and was living as a rat for twelve years while Sirius was in Azkaban.”

“And you know this how?” The other man’s voice was skeptical, Harry didn’t blame him.

Harry jumped in. “He was Ron’s rat. He’d cut off his own finger, Scabbers was missing a toe on his paw.”

The professor nodded slowly, as if tying in the new information into a particularly difficult arithmancy problem. “Pettigrew had always been the weak link of the four of you, not untalented, but nowhere near the potential the rest of you had. Any of us at school would have been able to give that information. From there it would only take the right incentive… And considering they were Animagi-” He snapped back into focus, leaning forward to stare intensely at Lupin. “All three of them. While we were at school. You never told.”

“For the better, it seems.” Lupin looked wholly apologetic. “You believe us then?”

“Clearly.” He barked out a laugh, alarmingly similar to his brother’s. “And to think, mother reinstated him as heir. Then again, considering…” Professor Black let the thought die out. “Alright then. Potter, when my brother gets in contact with you, tell him to meet me in London at twelve. He’ll know what it means.”

Harry agreed after a moment before something struck him. “Professor, when we were in the shack, Bl- Sirius said something. He was surprised you were alive. Why?”

A frown crossed his face, grey eyes darkening. “That’s not your business, Potter. Go frolic outside as you Gryffindors are wont to.” As Harry went to protest, Black countered. “If you continue asking, I’ll give you a detention to serve the first week of next term. Now, go. Both of you.”

As he and Lupin made their way back towards the Defense classroom, Harry looked up to the werewolf. “Why did Sirius think Professor Black was dead.”

“That’s not my story to tell, Harry. Truthfully, I don’t know the details myself. It was dark times back then, it was hard to know if someone vanished went into hiding or was dead. It was easier to assume the worst than hold onto hope.” Lupin smiled at him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “But he was correct. You should go and enjoy your last few days here with Ron and Hermione.”

And, somehow with more questions now than answers, Harry went in search of his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next book will be interesting, considering disguised Barty Crouch Jr. in close proximity to actual turncoat Regulus Black. And the Triwizard Tournament to give Reg anxiety. Sorry if this chapter feels rushed or seems to randomly jump from the Firebolt drama to the Shrieking Shack but those middle chapters were honestly mostly Quidditch and I'm really not down for writing most of that.


	6. House Elves, Mad Eye, and the Tri-Wizard Tournament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's fourth year begins - and with it, the hope of an uneventful year dies in flames. Quite literally.

By the time the Fourth Year Gryffindors had their first History of Magic lesson, the initial excitement over the coming Tri-Wizard Tournament had dulled to a low rumble. Harry – while excited over the prospect of the event – was mostly glad that the age restraint meant he’d be safe from the dangerous insanity that the Tournament would bring. Professor Black seemed in somewhat better spirits, though there were still faint traces of last year’s exhaustion clinging to him.

In fact, most of their chatter was over the stunt Professor Moody had pulled with Malfoy the Incredible Bouncing Ferret. The memory made him smile.

“Welcome back. As I’m sure you all expect, I have a new rule as last year’s furor has faded. I will not ban discussion of the tournament” and he glanced around sharply, grey eyes quickly killing any burgeoning chatter at its mention “as long as it is academic in nature. I won’t have gossip in my classroom. Are we all in agreement?” He continued on, giving no time for disagreement either way. “Good. Now if you’ll all send forward your summer assignments, I’d like us to have a discussion about the things you’ve learned writing these papers. And keep your complaints to yourself, you should expect this by now, even being Gryffindors.”

It was comments like that that reminded Harry about the House his professor hailed from. He was the most agreeable Slytherin Harry had met, snide remarks toward their house always more in jest than his least favorite Professor’s were. He couldn’t help but wonder – briefly – if any other Slytherins were like Professor Black. If so, they kept to themselves.

Hermione’s hand – unsurprisingly – shot up. Amusement was clear in Professor Black’s voice as he called to her. “Apologies, Professor, this isn’t about the assignment but I was wondering what you knew of the history of house elf enslavement?”

“Ah.” A look crossed his face that Harry couldn’t place. “That’s a complicated subject, Miss Granger. I’m happy to discuss that with you, but perhaps outside of class times. It would take nearly all term to give that topic the depth it requires.”

It was more interest and validity than Harry or Ron had given her interest in the subject and clearly it was enough to appease her for the moment. She made a vigorous note as other people slowly started to open the discussion part of class.

…

For all Harry had been looking forward to Professor Moody’s class, he left it distinctly uncomfortable. Hermione had just made it, having been spending her free time bouncing between Professor Black’s office and the library. Her interest in house elves had apparently gotten her an independent study project. Instead of dissuading her furor over their treatment, it seemed as though the History professor was encouraging it.

The quiet exasperation he felt toward her single-minded obsession with it all faded as Moody went into his lesson – displaying the three Unforgivable curses with no shame. The logical side of Harry understood the reasons, these were things they’d need to know, but a bigger part of him just felt _wrong._

The letter from Sirius that night didn’t help. Even knowing that Professor Black had ways to contact Harry’s godfather – Sirius had told him as much in a letter, briefly complaining about overbearing family once – wasn’t enough to dissuade the discomfort in his gut at the idea of him returning to the place where the most people were hunting for him.

Harry’s anxiety over him didn’t fade even as the weeks began to pass by – classes becoming more difficult to prepare them for the examinations they would have to take in the next school year. Ron complained in the common room. “It’s not like we don’t have all of next year to prepare for them, why do we need to get all this work _now_?”

“The OWLs are important, Ron. They determine what classes we can sign up for in Sixth Year and what NEWTs we can take. Those lead us to our careers outside of Hogwarts.” Hermione said, busy working on her SPEW items.

“Yeah, but there’s more important things than a test we won’t take for ages! Like the Tri-Wizard Tournament!”

Her work stopped, clear exasperation on her face. “The other schools aren’t even here yet. Might as well get a head start before we have distractions.”

“And spew isn’t a distraction for you?”

“It’s S-P-E-W and no, it isn’t. It’s part of my independent study for Professor Black. _He_ won’t have an issue with it.” Harry wasn’t entirely sure about that, but he knew better than get between a Ron and Hermione argument at this point.

…

He hadn’t thought October would come to an end so quickly, Harry mused, shifting ever so slightly in anticipation as the whole school waited for their guests to appear. He resolved himself to drop by Professor Black’s office to raise his concerns over Hermione’s campaign as he thought back to her earlier tirade about the ‘brainwashing of uneducated slaves’. It would also give him a chance to talk to him about Sirius.

Most of his worries were thrown from his mind as it began as a gigantic black shape appeared over the Forbidden Forest. It quickly turned into a giant carriage pulled by equally large palominos with fiery red eyes. The woman that emerged was giant – at least as tall as Hagrid but somehow giving the impression of being even more massive than his friend.

Madame Maxime’s pupils – all in light silk robes – looked frozen over. They opted to wait in the castle, though Harry couldn’t blame them, considering their lack of cloaks. Before they could get past the size of the massive horses and the terrifying idea of Hagrid’s skrewts getting out and wreaking havoc, changes began to happen in the lake.

A ship was slowly ascending out of the depths, a plank allowing the students of Durmstrang to come to shore. Karkaroff greeted Dumbledore happily, though even as he smiled, there was no warmth in the man’s eyes. His prize student, however, was far more interesting to him – and Ron. _Victor Krum_.

…

The hope for an uneventful year was clearly too much to ask for, Harry thought to himself dejectedly as he slowly made his way through the Great Hall to the side room. He’d been excited for the Tournament, but he had planned only on _watching_ it, not competing. Everything had been fine - Delacour, Krum, and Diggory. The three champions. And then his name had come out as well. Harry Potter. It didn’t escape him how most of his classmates must have thought he did it. The staff table held no comfort either, McGonagall’s lips pursed in what could either be worry or disappointment.

Professor Black’s entire posture had changed – he’d been casually ignoring the Durmstrang Headmaster in a way somewhat reminiscent to when he was refusing to acknowledge a subject he disliked in class and now had all his attention on Harry. He could feel the gaze boring into him, as if looking for something in particular in Harry’s face. After a moment, the History professor sat back, an inscrutable expression on his face as his fingers rubbed together absentmindedly.

Harry’s gaze slid across the table finding Moody after a brief moment. He could see the human eye trained on him just as the other teachers’ were but the magical eye was staring to the side but at who, Harry couldn’t tell.

Finally at the door to the room holding the other Tri-Wizard champions, Harry steeled himself and entered, ready to face whatever fate awaited him on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter I know, and after a longer wait than I intended, but that's life. My brain's been giving me ideas for book five, but that doesn't help me with book four logistics.  
> Next chapter will have Regulus and Harry talking about House Elves, the First Task, and possibly a tense moment between "Moody" and Regulus.


	7. Champions and Fireside Chats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter introducing a brief regulus pov. first and second tasks next chapter

“I highly doubt Potter put his name in the Goblet of Fire.” Professor Black’s voice cut through the din in the room that Harry and the other Champions had been made to wait in. The whole room turned to the man – none except Moody and Dumbledore appeared to have notice him enter. Harry certainly hadn’t. “We all know the risk this tournament brings. I must agree with Alastor. It’s far more likely that a third party tampered with the Goblet to ensure that he competes in hopes he perishes. And considering that he is here, they’ve succeeded in the first step. We all know that he cannot back out at this point without going back on a powerful magical contract – his choice to join or not.”

Harry stared at him, warmth growing in his chest. The vocal support of this particular teacher was enough to make him feel like he wasn’t alone in all of this. Still, not everyone seemed so open to his words. Crouch had an unpleasant expression on his face like he’d just had to clean up after all of Harry’s Aunt Marge’s dogs and had since the History professor first spoke.

“You _would_ agree with him.” It was Karkaroff that spoke. The words were sharp, but not as sharp as the look in the man’s eyes. “It is not fair.”

“Magic doesn’t believe in fair or unfair, only what is. Something I’ve learned over the years.”

Moody laughed, clearly able to catch whatever it was that Harry was missing from the conversation. “Just last year Hogwarts had dementors stationed at all the entry gates. Threats to Potter’s life are hardly new. Not much of a stretch to use this to kill ‘im, Karkaroff. Go see to your boy now. Things can’t be changed, better for everyone to just accept it.”

The foreign headmaster gestured to Krum – who gave his fellow Champions a short nod – before sweeping out of the room, Karkaroff’s shoulder bumping solidly into Professor Black as he passed. He simply brushed off his black cloak, giving a deep nod as Madame Maxime and Fleur Delacour exited behind them. Dumbledore turned to Harry and Cedric, the twinkle back in his eyes. “I’m certain you both must be ready to head back to your common rooms for the parties that I don’t doubt are already in full swing. You are free to leave us. Regulus, if you would?”

With a sigh, the professor nodded, raising an expectant eyebrow at the two students. They shared an awkward, quiet look before heading out, Black behind them. “I don’t plan on picking sides between you two, don’t make the school choose as well. We want Hogwarts to win. Take out the others before each other.”

A frown crossed Cedric’s handsome face. “Are… you meant to say that, Professor?”

“Definitely not.” A smug smile crossed his face. “But teachers can’t help the Champions. It’s not encouraged, but you’re free to assist each other if you wish. You’ve the free time, considering there’s no quidditch.” And there his voice went mournful, reminding Harry suddenly that he’d played when he was at school.

Cedric bid them farewell, heading down a staircase as Harry and Black went upwards. The expression on the man’s face became serious again. “Something wrong, Professor?” Harry asked.

“People have died in this tournament, Potter. You need to be clever. You and Diggory are just as much allies as you are opponents. Karkaroff and Maxime will share any secret they can with their champion so you mustn’t feel bad should you uncover things. And if this _is_ a ploy to kill you, it means you must be vigilant.” He seemed like he had more to say but shook his head instead. “Sirius would kill me if I allowed for you to die on my watch.” He stopped at a branching corridor, smiling thinly. “My stop. If you wouldn’t mind asking Miss Granger to stop by my office tomorrow at the regular time?”

…

Hermione was subdued the next night when she returned from her meeting. It was even more noticeable with Ron giving him the silent treatment. “Something wrong, Hermione?”

“Professor Black said I was going about my independent study wrong. He thinks I’m compromising my position and alienating people. That I’m not listening to other people’s input.”

“Oh?” Harry asked – not disagreeing with the professor but surprised. Professor Black had seemed supportive of her project from the beginning. “He’s making you give up sp- SPEW?”

She shook her head, fingers tapping on her book. “No. I think he’s got personal interest in it, but he’s said that I should go to the kitchens, talk to the House Elves here to ask them their opinions on things. What they want. Only, I don’t know how to get there. He wouldn’t say.” Hermione paused. “I suppose I’ll have to ask Fred and George.  Also, Professor Black had a message for you.”

Harry frowned. “What was it?”

The question was met with a smile, her voice dropping. “He’s got a way for you to talk to Sirius. _Actually_ talk.”

He could feel his spirits lift immediately, finally a bright spot in the otherwise bleaker and bleaker situation.

It turned out he would need the prospect of seeing Sirius to keep himself sane after the disaster that was the interview and article written by Rita Skeeter. It had ruined any chance Harry could see to mend things with Ron and seemed to embolden the endless gossip and mockery, primarily from his Slytherin classmates.

A note had come, unsigned, but in familiar script with a date and time to report to Professor Black’s office. It was still very dark as he trudged up to the office under his invisibility cloak, mind still buzzing with the thought of the dragons and how to tell Cedric – it would hardly be fair for him to be the only one not knowing. He took off the cloak as soon as he made it to the door, knocking. Professor Black opened it, gesturing Harry in.

He’d only just settled in when the fire began sparking. Sirius’s face appeared in the flames after a moment, looking better than he had when he’d left on Buckbeak. Harry grinned widely at him, happier than he’d been in a while. Harry couldn’t help but unload all his concerns and problems on Sirius, his godfather’s expression grim and, well, serious.

“We can deal with the dragon, Harry, but there’s a bigger concern. Karkaroff.” And there Sirius’s gaze shifted to his brother. Harry couldn’t help but look at him as well.

“Karkaroff was a Death Eater. Alastor was telling me more about his circumstances. He outed others to get himself out of Azkaban. There are others who avoided their fates that way but they’re not exactly well loved by those left behind. Others claimed the Imperius Curse and had the wealth to buy their way out.”

“And some were never caught.” Sirius added, turning back to Harry. “You cannot trust him. Even if it weren’t him, there is someone there that wants you dead. Someone already tried to take Mad-Eye out before he got to Hogwarts. The Death Eaters are growing more active and with where Bertha Jorkins has disappeared… Let’s just say, if someone wanted you dead, this is an excellent way to do it. Regulus-”

Professor Black frowned. “I haven’t heard anything, but then again, I wouldn’t. Lucius has made it clear what he thinks of me. This doesn’t seem Karkaroff’s style, though. It’s too well thought out. He’s a blunt instrument, no precision.”

Harry didn’t know why he would have any sort of contacts – even if that was willful ignorance – but it didn’t sound like there was much he could do right now. Sirius changed the subject. “But when it comes to the dragon, Harry, there’s a simple solution to your problem. Play to your strengths. Have Hermione help you, sometimes a second pair of eyes is what you need.” He paused. “And talk to Ron. Even if he’s being a prat. Pride isn’t better than friendship, believe me. Now head to bed, I’ve got to talk with my brother.”

“Right. Wait, hang on.” Harry stared at the fire in confusion. “Where are you?”

“Family house. Dreadful place, I’ll be happy to get out. Least Kreacher’s not around.”

“He’s here. You know he hates you just as much as you hate him.” There was a note of finality in the professor’s voice. “Go to your dormitory, Mr. Potter.”

Harry nodded, giving Sirius a final goodnight before heading back to the tower.

…

Regulus waited until the door closed behind the fourteen year old to slump into a chair, wholly undignified. “There’s something I’m missing, Sirius. Something right under my nose. Unless Karkaroff has gotten significantly more skilled in deception, this wasn’t him. He knows better than to return to the Dark Lord’s side. He’ll just be killed for his betrayal, quickly if he’s lucky.”

Sirius remained uncharacteristically quiet, for all Regulus could remember. Finally he spoke. “If it’s someone else, then you have to suspect every person involved with the tournament. You need to be just as wary as Harry.”

“I know that. I’ve cheated death once already, I’m not particularly interested in trying again. I take it you’re going to make your way up here?”

“Soon. Buckbeak doesn’t like being cooped up in this house and neither do I.” Sirius paused, eyes earnest. “Take care of yourself, Reg, and look after my godson.”

Regulus only nodded, watching Sirius’s face – and the fire – fade.

**Author's Note:**

> This will likely span through all seven books, though it's likely that books six and seven will be somewhat different from canon considering Regulus lived.
> 
> I will say, it's likely Cedric and Dumbledore will still die, though the fate of other characters aren't set in stone. I'll be going with canon relationships when it gets to that point but it shouldn't be overwhelming.


End file.
